


Captive

by needleyecandy



Series: Fucking February [59]
Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, War Prize Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 17:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9773546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needleyecandy/pseuds/needleyecandy
Summary: Loki meets Thor on the field of battle, where he is caught and sent back to Asgard in chains. He knows what happens to war prizes - especially ones as pretty as him - and he's ready to fight. He's ready.Really, really ready.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SOTD - I Hate Perfume, Cumming. You know I had to.
> 
> Enjoy!

The fires of war had already raged for three generations when they first met in battle.

Farbauti had sent his third son to face Thor, sending the crown and second princes to other fields. If that weren't bad enough, Loki was a runt, puny among his people though nearly Thor's own height. Thor had brought to this battle his rage at the harm recently inflicted upon his friends; Sif and Fandral had both been sent home wounded from the last encounter, mere days ago, and Thor's heart ached with their absence. The added insult of being offered an opponent so far beneath him brought out his full fury.

Loki was unleashing his tricks before they even squared off. In the span of a single blink, there had gone from a single Loki to thirty, all lined up and facing him, laughing. He roared and charged, meeting only thin air. The laughing increased from the rest as a dagger lodged in his thigh. He whirled in anger, sending his hammer through the heads of four more, again finding nothing but air.

The blood running into his boot tickled his leg. He reached down to tear the knife free, just missing a brittle shard of ice that flew through the air where his head had been seconds earlier. He could feel Mjolnir tearing at his hand, her greed for violence, and he let her go. Her magic saw through that cast by Loki. The battle was over.

*****

Loki woke to find himself in chains, trapped on a cot in an Aesir tent. He moved his fingers, reaching for his seidr to break them, but the chains held that, like his freedom, out of reach.

"Ah, you've survived," said a low voice. He turned his head to find Thor sitting on a stool by the fire, holding a cup. "I did hope you would."

"So you could take pleasure in my defeat?"

"You should be grateful. Most prisoners are set to work in the mines. You are to remain in a palace, though not your own."

"I'm to be a _better_ sort of slave?" Loki asked mockingly. "At least my people did not degrade our prisoners with these foul distinctions."

"You are to be _mine_." Thor met Loki's eyes. "Mine alone."

 

Loki did not see Thor again for days. The journey to Gladsheim was a blur of indignity. He was thrown over the back of a horse like a rolled up carpet, his head pounding as it filled with blood. Yet it was better by far than what lay at the end. He silently urged his horse to idleness.

The first surprise at the palace was that he was given his own room. True, it was one of Thor's chambers and the door opened into Thor's bedroom, but he had a door and a bed. He had anticipated no more than a mat on Thor's floor. If he were lucky.

The greater surprise came when Thor arrived. Loki had been sitting on the floor of his own room, refusing to be seen enjoying that which had been provided, when the door opened and Thor was silhouetted in the doorway.

"Come," he said.

Loki did not move.

"Come, or I will drag you," Thor said.

Loki rose to his feet. "You may have trapped my magic," he said, glancing at the bracelets snug around his wrists, "but I can and will fight you all the same. I will not make this easy for you."

Thor's eyebrows rose faintly. "I did not realize that treating a stiff shoulder was so burdensome," he said.

Loki rose to his feet, wary. Whatever game the Odinson played at, he had no wish to be dragged to it. Thor turned and led him out, not even glancing back in his arrogance. Loki followed several steps behind, out of arm's reach. They went through a maze of corridors and stairs that spilled into a long and fragrant hall. An entire wing of the palace given over to sensual pleasures. Loki sneered at the decadence.

Thor opened a door near the end and stood aside, waiting for Loki to enter. Loki stopped. "Go in," Thor said.

"I am happy here, thank you," Loki said.

"Go in or I shall throw you."

Loki went in. There _was_ a bed in the room, as he had suspected. It was narrow - no room for two to lie beside one another, no room for anything but mounting - and he found himself wondering whether it was better or worse to have no mockery of affection or closeness. To be forced in a setting that was so positively clinical.

Thor followed him in. "Sit down."

Loki stood with his back to the wall and said nothing. Thor rolled his eyes and sat down. They waited in silence until the door opened and a woman came in.

She gave Thor a low bow. "I thought he was the one who needed tending."

"He is. He's being a child."

"Am not."

"You want that shoulder fixed?" she asked, turning to him. "I can see how much it hurts just from the way you hold your arm."

He blinked. "I would."

"Up you get, then."

Thor stood and Loki took his place, trying to keep suspicious eyes on them both at once.

Her hands were cool and sure upon him as she felt the joint. "Lie back, please."

His eyes never left Thor as he did as she said, but Thor remained unmoving, leaning against the door. Images hovered above him, turning this way and that as she gestured. At last she gave a firm nod and reached into her pocket to retrieve a handful of stones. She picked one out and returned the rest.

The stone crushed easily beneath her fingers and as the powder fell upon his shoulder it did feel better. As the last traces fell from her fingers she took a step back. "How does it feel now?"

He tested it gingerly, then with more confidence. "Much better." The lack of thanks was purposeful.

"My thanks, Eir," Thor said, giving Loki a pointed stare.

"I am pleased to be of service, my lord."

"You. Follow me."

Loki rose and slunk after him into the hall. Thor did not speak again until they were out of earshot.

"I neither know nor care how things are done in Jotunheim. When someone here does you a kindness, you are to thank them."

“For what should I thank her? Patching me up so that I might offer you better sport when you decide you will try to have your way?”

Thor’s eyebrows rose minutely. "Have my way?”

“I’m not stupid.”

They were walking through a hall lined with windows overlooking a rose garden, beyond which was a vast lake. The heady scent wafted past them and Loki shortened his steps, letting the distance between them grow. When he deemed it sufficient, he whirled and flung himself at one of the open windows, only to crash into a wall of seidr and fall back to the floor.

“I’m not stupid either,” Thor told him. He picked Loki up and flung him unceremoniously over his shoulder.

There was no purpose in kicking or hitting, so he swallowed the humiliation and saved his energy for when they reached Thor’s chambers. Thor carried him straight in, past the door to Loki’s small room, past his bed and Loki felt a surge of panic that perhaps his humiliation was meant to occur on the balcony for all Gladsheim to witness, but Thor stopped short at a small dressing table. He set Loki on his feet and sat down, facing the mirror.

“My hair knots in the wind. It is now your job to remove the tangles.”

Loki blinked at the abrupt turn of events. “You want me to comb your hair?”

Thor picked up a comb and held it out.

Loki kept his eyes on Thor’s face as he took the comb and set to work. Thor was not exaggerating about its condition; though it was soft, each strand more like that of a kitten than a man, it had some of the most difficult tangles Loki had ever seen. He worked for an hour, starting at the back of Thor’s head and then doing first the right and then the left side, picking at the worst of the knots with a single tine.

“It is done.”

Thor reached back and ran his hand through it, the smooth locks parting like water. “Very good. I have nothing else for you until it is time for dinner. You may return to your room."

Loki stamped off and slammed the door behind him. He was figuring out Thor's game; the plan behind these activities was to lull Loki into complacency, that he not be prepared to fight back when the attack came. He would not succumb. He sat on the floor with his back against the door until the sound of plates and smell of food drifted beneath it.

"Come eat," Thor called.

Loki did as he was told. It was important to keep his strength up, and there was more of the stew he had enjoyed the night before.

"They don't usually repeat dishes two nights in a row, but you seemed to like that so much," Thor said as Loki helped himself to a large portion.

Loki paused and looked up. "Thank you," he said. Two could play this game.

Thor picked up a bottle. "Mead?"

"No, thank you." As if Loki would fall for _that_.

Thor shrugged and filled his own glass. "I leave tomorrow for battle. You are to remain in my chambers but you may amuse yourself as you see fit."

That night he dragged his bed against the door. It proved unnecessary.

When he woke, Thor was gone, and the next three days were positively sybaritic after all he had been through. There was a small and airy library, a bathing chamber with a tub large enough to swim, and three times a day he was plied with delicious food. It was with reluctance that he refused the mead, never knowing when Thor might return.

It was the middle of the fourth day, while Loki was reading on the balcony, that he heard the heavy doors slide open.

"Loki! In here. Now," Thor called.

Loki licked his finger and turned a page.

Thor appeared in the open archway. "Now."

"I'm in the middle of a paragraph."

Thor stormed over, tore the book from his hands, and threw it over the rail. "Now you are done."

Loki rose, glaring after Thor's retreating back, and followed. Thor went to his dressing table but rather than sitting to have his hair combed, he removed a glass bottle from one of the drawers and continued on to his bed. Loki's body went tense and his heart began to pound as he watched Thor tug off his shirt. This was it, and Loki was prepared. He breathed deeply, sending extra oxygen to his muscles, preparing them to fight.

Thor lay down on his stomach, his face towards Loki. "I fought without rest for nearly three full days and my muscles ache with it. You will rub them with that." He gestured at the bottle.

Loki approached warily and filled one palm with oil while his attention remained locked on Thor.

Thor's skin fairly radiated heat into Loki's hands. He slid them about, covering Thor in an even layer, before he began to press into the knotted muscles. He had never done this before, but had received such treatments often enough to have some idea what to do. And as long as Thor was on his stomach, he was limited in what he might attempt. Soon Thor was groaning in satisfaction, praising his skills and encouraging him to dig harder with his thumbs.

Thor really was very well formed, Loki had to admit. The hammer was an unusual weapon but its heft had shaped its bearer into a model of strength.

"I suppose you wish me to comb your hair, too?"

"Yes, but there's no rush. I want plenty more of this first."

Loki rubbed and kneaded, working out the tension and soreness until it seemed believable that he could do no more. "If I continue I will not have the strength to work on your hair," he lied.

It earned him a disapproving grunt but Thor was already getting up and moving to his dressing table. "How do you feel about your brother Helblindi?" he asked as he watched Loki in the mirror.

Loki crinkled his nose. "He's a pompous fathead. I loathe him. One of the best weeks of my life was when he got a life-threatening illness and it looked like he might not survive."

"Then I trust you won't mind that I killed him."

"No, not at all," Loki answered, pleased.

Thor sat still and silent until his locks were once again freed of even the tiniest knot. "Very good. You are to remain here while I attend the feast."

"I thought I was meant to serve you."

"You are to serve me when I return."

 _Ah._ There it was. He had slain the crown prince of Jotunheim and it spurred him to make the final claim upon his prize. Well, Loki would be ready.

Loki sat on the balcony, listening to the songs in Thor's praise – of his skill in battle, of how the cries of his victims rang in the halls of Hel, of his mighty appetite for food and drink – and thought about how very much he hated his captor. Despised him, in fact. Thor was atrocious. Nearly as bad as Helblindi.

The songs were still ringing from the hills when the door opened and Loki jumped up, girded, but it was only a long string of servants who began to fill the table with steaming platters and sparkling jugs. Thor arrived not long after.

"Now you are to serve me," Thor said, sitting down at the table. "I wish some of each of these dishes. The mead I will take from the jug."

Loki remained standing in the archway between inside and without. "You ate so much at the feast that they sang songs of it."

"And I remain hungry, so you are to serve me," Thor said pointedly. "I ate enough to give my people a thrill of pride in their prince, but I do not wish to so far exceed our warriors as to dishearten them. It is a delicate balance and it leaves me wanting more and you are not yet serving me."

Loki approached with caution, but Thor remained still. He took up a plate the size of a warrior's shield and filled it with every kind of food. "And a jug," Thor reminded him when he set it down. Loki put a jug to the side of the plate. "Very good. Now you may eat."

"The other plate is not for you as well? I am surprised you would be willing to reuse a dish."

"I spend much time in battle encampments. I am accustomed to hardship."

The worst part of it was that Loki genuinely could not tell whether Thor was mocking him or not, so he simply held his head up high as he made another pass about the table, filling it with those delicacies he most favored. The only remaining space for him to set it down to eat was directly across from Thor. That suited him very well, having the table between them. No need to worry about sudden movements while he was eating. It was important to eat heartily and keep up his strength, after all.

Thor ate with gusto, not looking up once until his plate was empty. "I grow weary. When you are finished, put the platters outside for the servants to take away." He rose and flung himself across his bed without bothering to remove his tunic. Even when Loki was excessively loud clattering the dishes together, he did not stir.

 

The next morning Loki wore his hair in a braid. He had always been rightfully vain and decided that captivity was no reason to give up what pride he still had, and this style put his long and elegant neck on perfect display. When Thor ordered Loki to follow him that he might personally serve Thor at breakfast, Loki positively swanned through the halls. Everyone he passed, man and woman alike, stared after him.

"I see why you have kept your body slave so secret," Thor's brother told him over huge vats of porridge. Loki's sole task was to stand at Thor's side and add more fruit, nuts, and sugar each time Thor ate them all from the surface. It left him with little to do but listen.

"Mmm? Oh, him," Thor answered vaguely.

Loki gritted his teeth.

"I will escort you back," Thor told him when he had finished his meal.

"I can find my way."

"I have no doubt you can." Thor told a firm hold of his arm and marched him back to his quarters. "You will remain here while I attend council. The guards will inform me if this door opens so much as an inch."

"I didn't try anything before, and you were gone for _days_."

"Don't pout. It's unbecoming." Thor steered him into the room and closed the door, leaving Loki alone.

He glared at the heavy wood. "I'm _not_ pouting."

His breakfast was waiting for him on the table, his own big bowl of porridge with just as much of the delicious toppings as he had put onto Thor's. He ate it all, glaring at the door the whole time.

A week later Thor went back to the battlegrounds, girded with new plans from the many council meetings that had occupied his days while Loki sat ignored in his chambers. This time he returned straight from the field, his body dripping with sweat and blood and glory. "You will wash me," he announced as he began removing his armor.

He looked like he had somehow built even more muscle in the nine days he was away. His tunic and leggings were plastered to his skin, putting each rippling swell on full display, and these he tugged off as he walked towards the bath. It was rather excessive, really, Loki decided. No one needed to be that well formed, _that_ muscular...

"Loki! Now!" Thor shouted, looking back over his shoulder.

Loki jumped and hurried after him.

"My hair first. Use those," Thor said, pointed at two bottles at the far edge of the tub. He sank down lower into the water, tilting his head back to wet his hair. Loki unclasped his vambrances and shoved up his sleeves. The room was filling with steam and it felt good to free at least a little of his skin from its heavy cover. He filled one palm with cleansing fluid, thick and pearlescent, and worked it through Thor's hair.

Thor groaned in pleasure and Loki reminded himself that he must remain on guard. Many warriors came home from battle with hungers for more than food.

He rinsed out the cleanser and followed it with a rich emollient cream. "You may let that sit while you wash me," Thor announced. He rose from the water like the dawn, his arms dripping and his chest covered in streams of water running down his skin.

Loki worked up a rich lather on the cloth and began working it over Thor's body, up one arm, rubbing vigorously and making Thor groan again. He circled around to wash Thor's back in long broad strokes before seeing to his other arm. When he got to Thor's front he began with his face, working away all the battlefield dust that stuck to his exposed skin, down his neck, strong as a bull's, and then to his chest. Loki washed carefully here as well, the cloth swirling over the solid muscles, sliding down to his rippling stomach, hard as rock, down... His hand was just dipping into the water when Thor's hand caught his wrist.

"I'll do that," Thor told him.

"Oh. _Good_ ," Loki said. With venom.

Thor washed his private parts before sitting down and sticking his feet up. "Now those," he said.

It wasn't until Loki was rinsing the cream from Thor's hair that Thor spoke again. "When we are finished here I wish you to rub my muscles."

The dratted things felt solid and shapely beneath his fingers and Loki absolutely detested every second of the terrible, terrible work. When he was done Thor rose and thanked him and left for the banquet without so much as a glance back.

 

A heat wave hit during Thor's next absence. It affected Loki far more than the Asgardians, who seemed to make no changes at all to their routine. He was given the same breakfast as always, both porridge and tea steaming hot, and he found himself dripping with sweat inside his heavy armor.

And really... now that he thought about it, was his armor really the best defense from Thor's predations? It protected him against arrows and swords, of course, but perhaps he would now be safer in other garments, things that let him move more freely and kept him from overheating. Yes, it really would be much more sensible. He was certain Thor was going to make his move any day now. He'd been waiting for Loki to let his guard down but he would be ready.

"That looks more comfortable," Thor said when he returned.

Loki glanced down at the sheer silk lightly skimming his body, opaque where his tunic came down over the delicate breeches, the rest thin enough to let the light breezes dance right across his skin. "Oh, this old thing?"

Thor grunted. "The heat must get to you."

"It does. I was feeling dreadfully weak."

"Are you better now?"

"Oh... a little, I suppose. I'm certainly _nowhere_ near my full strength, though."

"You had best go take a cold bath right away. It wouldn't do for you to get heat exhaustion. I will use the one by the sparring ring."

Almost before he knew it, Loki found himself all alone in the empty room.

He did take a bath. Thor was right about heat exhaustion, and as a Jotun, Loki had to be doubly careful. It was probably best that he spend a long time in the cool water, draining and refilling it each time it grew warm, just to be safe. The light was purpling and the shadows lengthening when Thor returned, calling to him from the main chamber.

"Are you still in the water?" he asked incredulously. "It's been seven hours."

"Has it?" Loki yawned. "I suppose I had best get out, then." He rose from the water and wrapped a small towel about his waist before walking to his room. He cast it aside and lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, until he was completely dry.

He heard the doorknob turn. _This is it,_ he thought, his heart racing. _I knew he was going to try something._

"You are to serve me at the feast tonight," Thor said, his eyes fixed determinedly on the wall above Loki's head, and disappeared.

Loki rose and put on his diaphanous trousers before presenting himself in Thor's chamber.

"You had best put on a tunic. And another layer entirely. I believe those are not as opaque as you think."

"Oh, but it's... it's hot."

"I will ask my mother to place a cooling charm on you, to keep you comfortable. But you really must dress more fully. We wouldn't want anyone getting the wrong ideas."

"No, we wouldn't want that," Loki said spitefully.

He went into his room and put his silk tunic back on before rummaging through his options in search of the best outer layer. He went all the way through twice but nothing seemed right.

"Hurry up, Loki," Thor called.

Loki settled for a different tunic, this one a heavier fabric, more snugly cut. The deep blue raw silk could scarcely have clung to his skin more exquisitely were it wetted down. He shoved a few pins into his hair and left his room.

Thor's eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch when he appeared. "Are you sure that's not too small for you? I wore it as a child."

"I am quite comfortable. Thank you."

"As you wish."

Loki glared at Thor's back all the way to the feast hall.

Despite his irritation he was devoted to his duties, keeping Thor's goblet full of drink, keeping Thor's plate full of the choicest morsels – at one point snarling at another body slave when they both reached at once for the most perfect carrot – fanning Thor when his skin began to flush with heat and mead though no other servant was doing so for their masters. Thor smiled and turned his face into the breeze.

He followed Thor back through the winding halls, walking first beside Freya's maid as Freya and Thor were in talk, then alone once the ways were parted. Even drunk, Thor exuded power, supple muscles rolling beneath snug-fitting leather.

And now that he was drunk, Loki would have to be doubly careful.

Indeed, the moment Loki closed the door behind himself, Thor caught his wrist. _This is it, now he's going to do it,_ he thought.

"Thank you for serving me so well tonight. I know you feel such things beneath your dignity as a prince, but believe me when I say all were admiring of your skill and grace." He was slurring his words a little and he looked like he was about to lean forward and Loki's pulse began to race – readying himself for a fight, of course – but then Thor just kissed his hand and said, "Good night, Loki."

The tunic was even more difficult to get off than it was to get on, which was saying a great deal. By the time he fell into his bed his skin was thoroughly heated and his heart was racing from the exertion and despite the late hour his body had no interest in sleep. Not when all he could think of was that he now knew the feel of Thor's lips. So soft they were, light and delicate as moonlight and it was thrilling to think of the power behind them. He had faced Thor in battle; he knew the full fury of the storm-bringer. It was thrilling to think of such contradictions contained in a single man.

Loki let his eyes fall shut and ran his fingertip over his lips, imagining Thor's kisses. They would fall upon his face like summer rain, warm and lifegiving. That was Thor, just as much as the thunder. It was impossible not to be aroused.

His nipples were already hard by the time he caressed his way to them, the taut areolae pebbled and rough and he lavished his attention there, forcing patience upon himself, before rubbing his palms over the jutting tips. This, too, was torture, when he needed something more, and so he waiting, circling, circling, until he nearly had to stifle a cry. When he finally pinched it was relief and tease all at once. He couldn't quite reach them with his tongue, but he had so many quietly sensitive areas on his arms – over the ridge of bone on his shoulder, inside the crook of his elbow, the soft skin on his forearm, right where the veins of his wrist disappeared – and he closed his eyes and imagined it was Thor's tongue upon them.

It must have been nearly an hour before he grasped his cock. Thor had seduced him fully and completely and it was only with that kiss had he realized it; now that he knew, he had to draw this out, to savor it, before he could even think of taking himself to completion. It had been easy enough to think of Thor's tongue in place of his own, but after a few minutes of determined concentration he concluded there was no way his hand could be mistaken for Thor's. Instead he decided that it would be best to think of Thor across the room, leaning against his wardrobe perhaps, watching as Loki showed himself off.

"Slow," Thor would tell him. His lids would be heavy, thick lashes almost dusting his cheeks, and maybe he'd rub himself a little through his clothes as he watched. Loki stroked it in long slow passes, running his palm over the head to smear the clear slick liquid evenly over his shaft, making it nice and shiny. A little squeeze as he slid his hand up always made more spill out and Thor would like to see that, too. His voice would be even deeper, lust making it rough and heated. "Such a pretty color. Such a pretty cock."

A languorous stretch, then, just the right thing to remind Thor that the rest of him was pretty, too. "Yes, that's nice, I like that," Thor said in his thoughts. Loki stretched again as he gave his cock another stroke and this time he let it drip to his stomach, where he dipped his finger in it and made a show of licking it off. _Oh,_ wouldn't Thor's gaze deepen at the sight of that, his breathing picking up, and he wouldn't be able to help himself after that. Just the thought of Thor unable to stop himself set Loki's own need spiking, and for all his plans to go slowly his mind was caught by the thought of one of those powerful hands rubbing, rubbing against the proud lump in his leather trousers had Loki's own hand racing, tugging at his cock frantically.

He realized that he was about to finish just in time to bite his lip. He didn't even feel the pain of his teeth digging in as his body jerked upwards, chasing more depth, more intensity as he came, spilling over his hand and leaving his stomach covered in scattered pearls.

 

Thor looked at him with concern the next morning. "You hurt your lip," he said. "It looks painful."

"A dream. That's all."

When Thor left for the day, Loki settled down in his favorite seat on the balcony and began to read the last of the novels in Thor's private library. He was so enrapt in it that he did not hear the door, or notice anything at all until a shadow fell across him. He looked up to find Thor holding out a glass jar.

"This should help your lip heal faster," Thor said.

Two days later, Thor brought him two armloads of new things to read, right arm bulging around a stack of bound volumes, left more delicately curled around a bunch of scrolls. "I noticed you do not share my interest in history, and are running out of books you might enjoy. I hope these will keep you happy while I am away, for I must return to the field."

Loki stood up. "I will help with your armor." Each clasp, each strap he tested three times after fastening.

In that battle Thor took down Beli, Helreginn, and Mögþrasir, three of Jotunheim's most powerful remaining warriors, and Gangr, their last berserker. Loki sat alone on the balcony, listening to the feast-songs in Thor's praise, and sighed.

Thor returned to his chambers very tired and very late. The next day Loki bathed him and combed his hair and rubbed his aching muscles. As afternoon began to whisper about the approaching nightfall Loki went to Thor's wardrobe and began to take out his finery.

"You don't need to do that, Loki. I am content with what I wear now."

"But the feast... there has been only one since your last battle. Surely there will be at least two more."

"Four," Thor said. "But tonight I prefer to dine here."

The servants, when they arrived, looked puzzled. They carried tray after tray of food that had been prepared for the feast, and none had thought they might be taking it instead to a private chamber. By the time they left the table was covered with all those foods favored best by Thor or Loki, and to the side were four barrels of mead along with two jugs to pour it into.

"Please, enjoy," Thor said when they were alone.

Thor filled their jugs while Loki saw to their plates. Thor drank heavily and ate magnificently and Loki felt a thrill at the sight of his prowess.

"Did you enjoy the books I chose for you?"

It took Loki a moment to focus his thoughts on Thor's question. Thor had just eaten his fifth boar and it was difficult not to squirm in his seat at the very thought of it. The strength, the magnificence... the appetite. "I did. Thank you," he said finally.

Thor smiled. "I am pleased to hear it. I did my best to find things I thought you would like."

Loki had only three jugs of mead with his meal. The amount was carefully chosen; more would have made his show more plausible, but he wanted his head clear enough to remember every detail perfectly. When they finished their meal, he flopped dramatically onto Thor's bed.

"Oh, I drank _so_ much," he said. "Just look at how drunk I am. Anyone could do anything to me right now and I wouldn't be able to stop them."

"How fortunate for you, then, that I have no interest in an unwilling bedmate."

Loki sat bolt upright. "And if I be willing?" he challenged.

"As you said, you are drunk."

He punched a pillow. "Not all the time, I'm not. Why won't you fuck me?"

"You are a slave," Thor said mildly. "I find it questionable at best to think that true consent can occur in the presence of such a vast power differential."

"You're a crown prince. How many people are there without such a gulf?"

"Not many, I grant you. You may sleep in my bed if you wish, but I had best warn you, I have been told I kick."

Loki rose with a huff and went to his room.

The next time Thor went to take the field he fought for seventeen days straight. He came home, ate ten warriors-worth of food, and slept for the next six days. Loki gently washed the battle-grime from his face and hands and waited for him to wake. When he did, he remained only long enough to be bathed, to eat again, and to don his armor.

It happened again, and then again. The feasts grew greater and the songs louder and the praises higher each time Thor came home in triumph.

There was one battle Thor returned from well after midnight, his voice waking Loki from dreamless sleep.

"Loki?"

"Thor?" he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes as he sat up.

"How do you feel about Byleistr?"

"Ugh. Appalling. Even worse than Helblindi. Why?"

"I killed him this morning."

"That's wonderful, Thor. You must sit down, I will go to the kitchens and fetch you some food."

"No. No, the battle is not over. I must return."

"You came just to bring me the news of my brother?"

"I thought it your right to know."

"That was good of you. We must be running out of people for you to kill."

"Mmm," Thor agreed.

"I don't suppose you've killed my father?" Loki asked, sounding hopeful.

"He has not yet ridden out to face me."

Thor was no berserker, but people began to whisper that he had somehow become endowed with all their strengths. He fought so long that other warriors had to shift in and out, sleeping and eating while their prince fought on, so determined he was for victory. The other slaves had long cast Loki envious glances; now the free servants began to do the same. _No, he is all mine,_ Loki thought fiercely.

*****

Thor returned from battle and knocked on Loki's door. It felt strange, to ask permission where before he gone as he liked.

The door opened and Loki's eyes widened in surprise.

"Loki. The war is over. You are free, and we are equals," Thor said.

Loki smiled and reached out for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SOTD Sammarco, Ariel Extrait
> 
> Enjoy!

Loki was half-tempted to pinch himself. Indeed, he would have done so, were he not even more tempted – and more focused – on pinching Thor instead. Pinching Thor's perfect golden rump, to be precise. For too long now he'd had to look and not touch, at least not as he wanted.

"Ow!" Thor burst into laughter. "I suppose I had that coming."

"I don't think there's any _suppose_ about it. But you have a lot of other things coming, as well."

"Have I? And what might those be?"

"I would say this, for a start," Loki murmured, leaning close.

*****

Loki's kisses were... no, to say they were everything Thor had dreamed would be to diminish them disgracefully. They were far beyond anything he had dreamed those many nights when he lay alone, every nerve in his body vibrating with the awareness of Loki so close, just behind that door. He was careful to be quiet, never to let Loki's name be so much as a whisper upon his lips. His torment had only grown when he became aware of Loki's matching desire. So often, every night almost, he had nearly given in. A conscience could be an inconvenient thing, he thought, but he knew he could not find pleasure in a guilty bed. And so he had taken his ardor and made it into determination.

It had been Laufey's choice, not Thor's, to face him with the other Jotun princes, and their choice, not Thor's, that they die rather than be taken prisoner. All the same, his rejoicing at their deaths doubled when he learned that Loki hated them as well. He began to think of Jotunheim itself as Loki's body; each success upon the field, each stretch of captured land, was a little more of Loki that was... not _his_ , but for him all the same. Each movement of the Aesir army towards Utgard brought him closer to Loki's bed. Only once the capital city had fallen and the peace treaty signed could he have his desire.

Although he had made plans upon plans, he had not expected it that day. They were still nearly twenty leagues from the capital city and they still needed to cross the treacherous ice lake, with its frost-blooms capable of cutting their boots to ribbons. But Laufey had come forth, axe still at his hip, and acknowledged what all knew: that it was nothing more than a matter of time, and it was better for his realm for him to offer peace than have it forced. He might even have been a little sorry to see a mighty realm laid low, were it not for one simple fact: that he could not go to bed with Loki while Loki was a slave, and now Loki was a slave no longer.

" _Thor_ ," Loki whispered into their kiss, drawing him back to the present.

"Oh, Loki," Thor murmured. "Tell me you want this?"

Loki's hand slipped between them, cupping Thor's erection through his leather and chainmail. "I want this," he whispered.

Whatever restraint Thor may still have had fell away at Loki's touch and Loki's words, his body subsumed with raw and aching need. He didn't remember undressing but they must have done for only once he felt the cold iron cuffs against his skin did he realize that Loki's seidr was still imprisoned.

"Wait... wait. Your wrists, these must come off," Thor managed.

Loki said nothing at first. Thor thought of how he would feel if Mjolnir ever stopped answering his call, or if the storms did not gather at his command. It would be like losing a limb or forgetting how to speak. He could not even begin to fathom what might make Loki pause. He glanced over at Thor's bed.

"How far is the blacksmith's?"

"The-? Oh. No. No need. I can do them right here." Loki didn't blink as Thor took the first cuff in his hands, wincing at the cold shriek as the hinges ripped apart. Thor tossed it carelessly to the floor and did the other.

"Finally," Loki breathed, and there was such heat and intensity in his voice that for a brief instant Thor feared he had made a mistake but then Loki was flinging himself upon him, climbing him, legs tight around Thor's waist and hands going everywhere as Thor carried him to the bed and laid him down.

It was perhaps not the most mannerly thing to go straight for Loki's cock but after months of self-restraint it was impossible to hold himself back, especially not with Loki splayed out on his bed, a wicked smile dancing across his face and fingers idly stroking across his chest. He leaned over and took the violet-flushed head between his lips. Loki's back arched as he cried out, and then he was panting, hips straining upwards for more as Thor sucked and licked. It was already leaking, the taste almost crisp against his tongue.

The deep red of Thor's sheets made Loki's red eyes looked even sharper as he peered from beneath slitted lids. "Later," he said, panting, "Later, I need you inside me, fuck..."

It was not something he needed to be told twice. He rose, a shaky laugh on his lips as Loki reached after him with a mewl of complaint. He opened his drawer and found the bottle of sweet oil that he had tucked away some months ago, but when he returned to the bed Loki shook his head. "We don't need that."

Thor looked down at his cock, solid and reddened against his stomach. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

Loki burst into a peal of delighted laughter at Thor's look of offense. "Oh, you would, if you hadn't freed me. But now we don't need to spare the time for that, either." He reached out for Thor, his hand supple and elegant as it hovered between them. Thor took it and let himself be pulled down.

He still checked, despite Loki's words, partly to assure himself and partly because he had to feel. Yes, Loki was slick and his muscles relaxed. It was so easy to slip inside, to twist and stroke the satin within. He slid his fingers back and forth, deeper, deeper, curious to find if Loki had the same sweet firm patch of nerves as he did himself.

"You can't, it's too deep," Loki panted. He reached for Thor's cock and gave it a firm squeeze. "You'll reach it with this. Just... please, Thor, I've waited so long."

When Thor pushed inside in one long and even thrust it was as though the Tree itself had stopped. It was impossible for the realms to carry on outside these walls when this was happening within them, he was sure of it. Loki was tight and hot and clenching, his body grabbing at Thor, begging him to go somehow deeper even though his hips were already flush against Loki's skin. The wonder of it would have overwhelmed him if only the sensations had not. Loki's hands were already on him, exploring, greedy for the feel of him. Thor tensed his muscles, making them bulge, and grinned ferally as Loki's eyes fell shut in bliss.

It took a force of will to pull away but it was worth it to hear Loki's whimper when he slipped free and his rough cry when he thrust back in. "Fuck, yes. Again, do that again," Loki panted.

Loki's preparations made it easy to do as he asked. Even with his own careful – some might say excessive, but he considered it only cautious – preparations, Thor was accustomed to having to make a space for himself before he could fuck like this, gliding so easily through slick heat. Loki shifted, wrapping his legs around Thor's back, curling his hips up, and with the next thrust in he made a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a scream. When he could speak, his voice was trembling.

"See? I told you you'd find it."

Thor grinned and did it again. He was trying, desperately, to focus on Loki's pleasure rather than his own, but it was difficult to separate them when each thrust was like Valhalla, when Loki was clenching like that every time Thor hit his spot. He reached between them to grasp Loki's cock, determined that he finish first.

The room smelled of sex and heated, sweating bodies, fresh salt and slick skin filling his nose and covering his tongue. He licked a long stripe down the side of Loki's throat, searching for more. The taste of him only made Thor grow closer, the tightening in his belly beginning to twist and coil, an overloaded spring desperate for release. Loki's hand curled over his, guiding his movements. Thor planted one hand beside Loki's head and wrapped the other around his waist and rolled them so that he was sitting up with Loki astride him, riding him.

Thor found himself gasping Loki's name, his face still buried in Loki's throat, mouthing at the pulse that thudded beneath his lips. Loki was saying his name, too, over and over, like a prayer. Loki's other hand was on Thor's back, sharp nails raking across his shoulders and then freezing, tense, as Loki went stiff, back arched and mouth open in a silent desperate cry. Thor thrust twice more, sharp and rough, and then he was coming, too.

Even had he not burned for this for months it would have been tremendous. His vision filled with bursts of white and his skin fairly danced with electricity. Loki's moans sounded distant, as though Thor were listening from underwater. This was relief as much as it was release, months of tension all let go in a series of shivering waves.

Untangling their limbs took some doing, especially with the way his hands were still shaky and Loki lay beneath him too limp to be of any help. How he got them both comfortably settled, lying on their sides facing one another, he wasn't entirely sure.

"You look sad," Loki said. He reached up and ran a fingertip across Thor's cheek. "You can't tell me that was a letdown, because I won't believe you."

Thor hummed softly. "No, definitely not. I look sad because though I'm not in love with you I could become so, so very easily."

"I feel much the same, but why is this a cause for sadness?"

"People like us have so few choices in finding a partner, and I have always known that compatibility would have to be second to suitability. And now I have found someone with both."

"Again, I ask why this should make you sad? Such a thing ought to make you smile."

"Because one day our duties to our realms will make us part. I should have left you a brother to take the Jotun throne." Thor rested his arm over Loki's waist as he spoke as though the weight of it might hold him there.

"All will be well, I promise," Loki soothed. "See to the finishing of the war and the treaties and then we shall remain abed for weeks and not think about a thing but pleasure."

"Months. Months would be better. Or all the years I hope to live."

"I promise all shall be well," Loki swore again. "But there's one thing that must be done first, and it's really rather urgent."

Thor rose up on his elbow to look down at Loki, concern writ large on his face. "What is it?"

Loki sounded nonchalant. "Tomorrow when you go to Jotunheim for the peace talks, you must kill my father."

" _What?_ " he gasped. "I cannot do that. Your father handled his defeat with honor, and Asgard must respond likewise," Thor said.

"Mmm. Honor. I can just imagine what he said when he made his surrender. 'Nothing more than a matter of time'?"

Thor's face went white. "Aye."

"Better for the realm to have him offer peace than to wait for it to be forced upon them?"

"That as well," Thor answered grimly.

"Yes. That's all part of the plan. And tomorrow, when you and your father ride into Utgard escorted by nothing more than your personal guard, you will be invited into the palace, where they will call the icework ceiling down upon you. It's all very clever. And my idea, of course."

" _What?_ " Thor jerked back.

Loki caught his wrist. "I did come up with it while you were riding out to kill me," he pointed out.

"That's fair," Thor agreed, cautious. "But neither my father nor I has any ice magic. Will it be obvious that we know of the plan if we insist on remaining outdoors?"

"Send me back tonight. I will say you released me as a show of good faith. I'll even laugh at your stupidity. And then I will be there when you enter the palace and I will stop the collapse, you will kill my father, and we will have not only a peace but an alliance."

"And your people? They will simply accept this?"

"That's the other part of my plan. They would be no more willing to accept such a dishonorable victory than to accept defeat, and they would overthrow all those surviving rulers who had any part in such a despicable ploy."

"Of whom you would not had time to be a part."

Loki grinned at him.

Thor pulled him close. "I hate to see you go."

"I know. I hate to do it."

Thor kissed him again and then they rose and dressed and within the hour they were walking together to the Bifrost.

Trumpets heralded the arrival of the Aesir delegation the next morning. Loki sat in Helblindi's old chair, below and to the right of the throne. Thor glanced up only long enough to see that he had schooled his face as Thor, splendid in his robes of state, strode in behind his father.

"Allfather," Laufey said.

"Laufey. We the victors now claim your castle, your capital, your kingdom," Odin said, reciting the ancient words.

Laufey bowed his head and began the vows of capitulation. "I the conquered give up to you my castle, my capital, my kingdom. I give up to you..."

It was on the fourth vow that he began to speak to the ice, the commands heard only in the new sibilance in his words, and Loki did not stop it. With a sharp _crack_ a fissure broke straight through the ceiling and the Aesir looked up in shock and Loki still did not stop it. Laufey stood and hissed another command and from either side of the gap fragments began to rain down, a shower of chips as more gaps began to craze through the shining dome above their heads. Only then did Loki stop it. The effort must have been massive, tons upon tons of ice held up against gravity with nothing but his seidr, but the only show he made was an idly lifted hand.

"You have one more vow, Father," he said softly.

"You, you dare interfere," Laufey snarled, whirling upon him.

Loki cast a sharp glance at Thor, who stood watching them intently. At Loki's nod, he raised his hammer and let her fly.

Loki wiped the spattered gore from his face and rose to his feet. He waited until all eyes were upon him before stepping deliberately up to the throne. He ignored the Aesir delegation as he spoke to his people.

"Is there anyone here who denies my right to rule?"

Silence. 

Loki sat down and spoke again. "Is there anyone here who denies the right of the Odinson to respond as he did to my father's dishonorable act?"

Silence at first, then shaking heads, hanging heads. The people were shamed by their late king's attempt at trickery. Thor smiled inwardly, his heart swelling with pride. Such things were best left to the masters.

"Then let us remove and see the collapse of this accursed place."

Four guards stepped forwards and wrenched the icen throne from its gray stone dias. They marched forwards, carrying him from the palace. Odin, not to be outdone, fell into step, the two kings beside one another. Thor again followed his father, hoping that Loki could hear his footsteps.

Once all the people were clear, Loki released his hold on the ice. The crowd stood together watching the collapse of the old order, and then Loki spoke the final vow.

Odin had one more demand to make. He likely would have asked it even if he had not learned his son's heart; he had not traded his eye for nothing.

Loki accepted, and Thor's plan – months in the making, ever since the first moment he looked at Loki with warmth as well as longing – was complete.

*****

It took place just two weeks later. Work had already begun on building a doorway between the realms; in the meantime, Thor would live with Loki, learning the ways of his new people. The wedding, the true end of the war, was celebrated by not just two realms but all. The paired realms would be ruled by the paired kings, each giving of their knowledge and abilities to enrich and strengthen both their peoples. In time heirs would be named, but there was no hurry. Not for that, anyway.

"I did not know I could be so happy," Thor said as they hurried towards their bedchamber.

"I promised you, did I not? I said I would make everything work out."

Thor smiled at him. "That is true. You did."

"What will we tell our children about how we met?"

"The truth, I think. We tried to kill each other, failed, and fell in love."


End file.
